Woman in this scale, the weed in that, Jupiter, hang out thy balance, and weigh them both; and if thou give the preference to woman, all I can say is, the next time Juno ruffles theeO Jupiter, try the weed. Bulwer-LyttonWhat Will He Do With It? Bk. I. Ch. VI.

After he had administerd a doseOf snuff mundungus to his nose;And powderd th inside of his skull,Instead of th outward jobbernol,He shook it with a scornful lookOn th adversary, and thus he spoke. ButlerHudibras. Pt. III. Canto II. L. 1,005.

Sublime tobacco! which from east to west,Cheers the tars labour or the Turkmans rest;Which on the Moslems ottoman dividesHis hours, and rivals opium and his brides;Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand:Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe,When tippd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;Like other charmers wooing the caress,More dazzlingly when daring in full dress;Yet thy true lovers more admire by farThy naked beautiesGive me a cigar! ByronThe Island. Canto II. St. 19.

Contented I sit with my pint and my pipe, Puffing sorrow and care far away,And surely the brow of grief nothing can wipe, Like smoking and moistning our clay; * * * * *For tho at my simile many may joke,Man is but a pipeand his life but smoke.Content and a Pipe. Old ballad.

The Indian weed, withered quite,Green at noon, cut down at night, Shows thy decay. All flesh is hay.Thus think, then drink tobacco. * * * *And when the smoke ascends on high,Then thou beholdst vanity Of worldly stuff, Gone at a puff.Thus think, then drink tobacco. Attributed to ErskineGospel Sonnets. Meditations on Tobacco. Pt. I. Printed in a Collection Two Broadsides against Tobacco. (1672). Erskine claimed only Pt. II. Pt. I. is from an old poem.

Tobacco, an outlandish weed,Doth in the land strange wonders breed;It taints the breath, the blood it dries,It burns the head, it blinds the eyes;It dries the lungs, scourgeth the lights,It numbs the soul, it dulls the sprites;It brings a man into a maze,And makes him sit for others gaze;It mars a man, it mars a purse,A lean one fat, a fat one worse;A white man black, a black man white,A night a day, a day a night;It turns the brain like cat in pan,And makes a Jack a gentleman. FairholtJ. Payne Colliers MS.

With pipe and book at close of day,Oh, what is sweeter? mortal say. It matters not what book on knee, Old Isaak or the Odyssey,It matters not meerschaum or clay. Richard Le Gallienne. In Volumes in Folio. See Copes Smokers Garland.

Ods me I marle what pleasure or felicity they have in taking their roguish tobacco. It is good for nothing but to choke a man, and fill him full of smoke and embers. Ben JonsonEvery Man in His Humour. Act III. Sc. 2.

For I hate, yet love thee, so,That, whichever thing I show,The plain truth will seem to beA constrained hyperbole,And the passion to proceedMore from a mistress than a weed. LambA Farewell to Tobacco.

I would I were a cigarette Between my Ladys lithe sad lips,Where Death like Love, divinely set.With exquisite sighs and sips, Feeds and is fed. * * * *For life is Love and Love is death,It was my hap, a well-a-day!To burn my little hour away. H. A. PageVers de Société. Madonna Mia.

Old man, God bless you, does your pipe taste sweetly? A beauty, by my soul!A ruddy flower-pot, rimmed with gold so neatly, What ask you for the bowl?O sir, that bowl for worlds I would not part with; A brave man gave it me,Who won itnow what think youof a bashaw? At Belgrades victory. Gottfried Konrad PfeffelThe Tobacco Pipe.

Just where the breath of life his nostrils drew,A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw;The gnomes direct, to every atom just,The pungent grains of titillating dust,Sudden, with starting tears each eye oerflows,And the high dome re-echoes to his nose. PopeRape of the Lock. Canto V. L. 81.

Tobaccos but an Indian weed,Grows green at morn, cut down at eve; It shows our decay, we are but clay. Think on this when you smoak Tobacco. As quoted by ScottRob Roy. First printed in Wit and Mirth, or Pills to Purge Melancholy. Vol. I. P. 315. (Ed. 1707).

And twixt his finger and his thumb he heldA pouncet-box, which ever and anonHe gave his nose and took t away again;Who therefor angry, when it next came there,Took it in snuff.Henry IV. Pt. I. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 37.

It is not for nothing that this ignoble tabagie, as Michelet calls it, spreads over all the world. Michelet rails against it because it renders you happily apart from thought or work; Whatever keeps a man in the front garden, whatever checks wandering fancy and all inordinate ambition, whatever makes for lounging and contentment, makes just so surely for domestic happiness. StevensonVirginibus Puerisque. I.

Look at mefollow mesmell me! The stunning cigar I am smoking is one of a sample intended for the Captain General of Cuba, and the King of Spain, and positively cost a shilling! Oh! * * * I have some dearer at home. Yes, the expense is frightful, butit! who can smoke the monstrous rubbish of the shops? A Veteran of SmokedomThe Smokers Guide. Ch. IV.

Dick StoypeWas a dear friend and lover of the pipe.He used to say one pipe of Wisharts bestGave life a zest. To him twas meat and drink and physic,To see the friendly vaporCurl round his midnight taper,And the black fumeClothe all the room, In clouds as dark as sciences metaphysic. Charles WestmacottPoints of Misery.

Lastly, the ashes left behind,May daily show to move the mind, That to ashes and dust return we must: Then think, and drink tobacco. G. W. Probably George Withers, in MS. of 17th. Cent. owned by J. Payne Collier. Printed in My Little Book of Songs and Ballads from Ancient Musick Books MS. (1851). Drink tobacco means drinking in, or smoking.